


What I Want, I Get

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [26]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Future Fic, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:38:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3746260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There was something else going on with Ian, and his plan was to fucking find out because he'd already been rejected three times."</p><p>Prompt from my lovely Anon: "Ian and Mickey get back together and Mickey notices that Ian keeps getting him off but he won't let Mickey reciprocate (it happens 3 or 4 times then Mickey raises his eyebrows like wut?) He finally asks Ian about it and Ian admits that he feels like he doesn't deserve to be with Mickey because he broke them up and he feels guilty. Mick talks to him and calms him and then Ian gives me the fuck of his life. =D YAY SMUT lol"</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Want, I Get

**Author's Note:**

> So I really liked writing this - AND I had this idea myself about how Ian would feel, so omfg! I hope its okay? and that you like it so yaaaaaaa! Thankyou for prompting me:)
> 
> Prompt me : im-an-angel-y0u-ass.tumblr.com

 

They had recently got back together – per say, the break-up wasn't even logical. Mickey had devised a plan of how not to get shot again for Ian, then he went home and wallowed in his own self-pity. The same night, Ian had knocked on his door, soaking wet with rain and from what Mickey could tell – tears. It wasn't a quick thing, Mickey didn't just give in like a bitch – he opened up to Ian, he had told him _everything._ From how he made him feel like shit, how he had done almost _anything_ to stick by him and he wasn't going to be dumped like some booty-call, those days were long gone. After Ian apologizing over a million times, his face doing that thing that always twisted Mickey's gut, the older boy gave in. Those eyes were too solemn to resist. 

 

But – Mickey had realised something. Whenever they planned on getting off, it was only  _him_ getting off. Ian would just treat Mickey to a morning blowjob, but walk off when Mickey was ready to give it him back, or he would say “ _it's okay, this was for you”_ or “ _I'll deal with it myself._ ” Mickey knew it was bullshit – there was something else going on with Ian, and his plan was to fucking find out because he'd already been rejected three times.

 

** 1) **

 

“I feel like a fucking horny fourteen year-old-girl.” Mickey mumbled as Ian rubbed his dick through the layer of his jeans. They were in the back-seat of their car – well, Iggy's but they could deal with his shouting about cum on the seats another day – and Ian had squished himself in-between Mickey's legs, his hand palming Mickey's boner through his jeans. 

 

Ian ignores him, hips rolling against the fabric of Mickey's jeans. His plan was to get Mickey off like this – they  _never_ did dry humping so he wasn't sure if this was a challenge or not, either way -Mickey's eyes were rolling to the back of his head, so it was doing something. Mickey's hand pushes through the gap and goes to grab Ian's bulge, when a pale arm stops him. “I want  _you_ to cum, Mick. We can do that later.” 

 

“Atleast let me take off these fucking jeans.” Mickey whines into a moan, trying to wriggle his hips more against Ian's. The redhead slows, his lips biting at the skin at Mickey's jaw. Shaking his head, he flicks his finger and the other boys back arches against the seat of the car. “If we do that, I won't be able to control myself.” 

 

“That's a fucking problem, because?” Mickey raises an eyebrow, trying to hold himself together over some dumb dry humping. Ian mutters something, but through the humid heat and the buzz of the heater, Mickey can't hear a fucking thing. It seems that Ian wants to change the subject when his hips start to dig into Mickey's, his hard-cock rubbing erratically against his own. It's not long until Mickey is cumming all in his jeans, the stickiness both disgusting but arousing, before he catches his breath he goes to finish Ian off – but the fucker had already fell from his position and was pulling Mickey up to his side. 

 

“Man, let me suck your cock – it's the least I can do.” Mickey wiggled his eyebrows – one; he really fucking missed that cock, since they got back together he hardly seen the fucker. Two; he wanted to see Ian vulnerable, squirming out his name, trying to gasp for air but it would be trapped by Mickey's lips. But when his hand goes for the buckle of Ian's belt, the younger boy clutches to his wrist. 

 

“I'm tired, Mick.” Ian whispers, but Mickey knows he's lying. He's known the redhead way too long to not see the way his lip twitched at the corner – which it did everytime the kid lied. Mickey leaves it this time – ready to investigate what Ian had against getting off, so recently. 

 

**2)**

 

Ian pushes Mickey up against the wall of their bedroom, sure he had knocked over a couple of bottles – but at this point he didn't have an ounce of care. Mickey grunts as his back hits against the falling posters harshly, one of his hands grip to the back of Ian's neck and pulls him in for a kiss.  _Even if he won't put his dick in me, atleast his mouth is on me._ Mickey had just put the whole celibacy thing to Ian not being ready – despite him feeling the hard as rock dick pressed into his back every night. 

 

The redhead knocks the thoughts of his head, his hand reaching under the waistband of his sweats, his lips biting against his bottom lip. Mickey's head knocks back as the familiar, warm hands wrap around his cock – pumping at it with precise motion. Ian's other hand slides down the hills of Mickey's abs, teasing him with delicate fingers. “ _Fuck,_ Gallagher.” Mickey bites his lip, watching as Ian concentrates on getting him off, his hand claws in the back of the redhead shirt, driving him closer. 

 

As soon as his own hand travels down Ian's chest, fiddling with the waistband of Ian's sweats – like it had been for the past two weeks, his hand was shoved away. He was starting to think that Ian didn't want his touch no more. “Not like you to turn down a fucking handjob, Gallagher?” Mickey breathes out, toes curling against the floor as Ian's hand flicks around the base of his cock. 

 

“This is for you, Mick. This ain't about me.” Ian mumbles, smirking as his thumb strokes against the tip of Mickey's cock; not only shutting Mickey up into a drastic moan, but it also helped him forget that Ian was acting really fucking weird. Mickey's about to cut the whole thing off, get Ian to tell him exactly _why_ he was rejecting him and a hell-as-fuck good handjob, but when Ian's lips catch against his own – he can't think of anything else. 

 

** 3) **

 

Mickey jumps at the sound of the bathroom door opening, he pulls back the curtain and instantly relaxes when he sees its just Ian – most likely enduring a piss, or going to shave. In his luck – because seriously his ass needed action very quickly or the dildo under his bed, that didn't match to size, would be used – he hears a rattle of keys, a drop of pants and a stumble of feet. Pulling the curtain back once more, he finally checks out his naked boyfriend. The way the dimples in his back shone out, or the way the curve of his spine made Mickey want to cum all over the place, or the fact that his dick – which some-how got bigger – was sprung up, waiting for him. 

 

“Wait your turn, I've got to be at work in less than half an hour you dick.” Mickey smirks, already knowing that they would get hot in the shower. Ian flips him off, dragging the shielding curtain back to see his boyfriend washed with soap, the foam falling down his chest. Ian's cock twitches, but he plays it down, he steps into the shower and grabs onto Mickey's hips. “I can do this shit in ten.” The smirk plays on his lips, Mickey doesn't hesitate when the redhead drops to his knees, fingers digging to the bone of his hip. 

 

“Christ, Ian.” Mickey's hands find their way into Ian's hair, cupping his skull.

 

Ian grins as he nears Mickey's cock, his lips ghosting over it. “Yes?” Ian asks, huskily. With only a gasp in return, Ian sits back on his haunches, putting the space between them. Teasing, his hand trails up Mickey's leg, but the brunette wasn't having any of it. “Did I say fucking stop, Firecrotch?”

 

The redhead flashed a grin, an in a instant he leaned in and engulfed Mickey's cock. He was quick, relentless, Mickey's cock hitting the back of his throat each time the older boy fluxed his hips. Ian hallowed his cheeks, smirking around the base of his cock, before he drew back – spit against his mouth, but fuck – didn't he look perfect. Mickey can't help but brace himself against the wall, his hand flying out incase his legs buckled beneath him. Mickey would fall, he would fall because of his fuckhead boyfriend who happens to be a gods gift when giving blow-jobs and looked super fucking hot when he had spit all around his mouth.

 

Ian laughs around his cock, it was only then that Mickey realised he had actually said all that shit out loud. “Stop being so dramatic.” Ian purposely licks his lips, before wrapping his mouth around Mickey once more. Mickey might have lasted another thirty seconds more if it wasn't for Ian teasing the slit at the top of his cock, he came hard, pouring himself down Ian's throat – in which the redhead didn't even seem affected by. Ian licked him clean, before he swayed back to his feet.

 

“You better get going, huh.” Ian huffs out, his hands braced against Mickey's heaving chest. Mickey licks his lips, directing his gaze to Ian's huge, erected cock. He couldn't just leave Ian with that – he must be dying for someone to touch it, because fuck – Mickey hadn't touched that cock in so long and he was definitely having withdrawals. “When has that ever fucking stopped me getting you off?”

 

Ian shrugs, replacing his strange behaviour with a grin that did things to Mickey. He hops out of the shower, grabbing a towel, that did his hard-on no justice. “Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself.”

 

Mickey had never been more angry that he couldn't get Ian off.

 

**+1**

 

Mickey's staring up at the ceiling, not really noticing the fact his boyfriend is inbetween his legs, bobbing his head up and down the shaft on his cock. He can't get it out of his head. Why wouldn't Ian get off anymore, why wouldn't he let Mickey touch him? It was all after the break-up, the sloppy and unneeded break-up, and now _Ian_ was acting weird? Ian would have never turned down the chance for Mickey to touch him – he'd been craving it for too long to even think of that option. But recently, the only touch he'd get from his was his mouth. Maybe things had reversed, maybe Mickey was just a warm mouth and Ian sucked him off just to shut him up? 

 

“Ian...stop-” Mickey swatted the top of Ian's head, wriggling his hips away from the redheads mouth. “Stop, _Gallagher.”_ Ian lifts off Mickey, his head uncovering from the blanket, the sweet pop of his mouth getting of Mickey's dick – it did something, but Mickey needed to ignore it. 

 

“What's up, Mick?” Ian asks, his face screwing up into concern. “Did I-” 

 

Mickey interrupts him with a stern hand. “Why the fuck you being so weird?” He asks, knowing that his question was sloppy, and most likely didn't make sense, and obviously it wasn't going to get his point across and how Ian wouldn't let him suck his dick. He raises his eyebrows - seriously, when did Ian ever give this shit up?

 

Ian scoffs, pulling the blanket down his back. “What, me sucking your dick is weird? Since when?” Mickey can sense confusion – he can sense that Ian was trying to block something out, but he needed to know, he needed to know if this was just about getting Mickey off and nothing else. 

 

“Don't bullshit me Gallagher. I'm serious, what the fuck is this celibacy act about?” Mickey questions, watching as Ian suddenly jolts up to his knees. “My ass is literally fucking drying out because your cock hasn't been in there, in like what – four fucking weeks? What the fuck man.” Mickey knows he's being a little bitch, and that he's ungrateful for the fact that his boyfriend did everything to get him off. But it was okay to be pissed that he couldn't return the favour, right? 

 

Ian rubs a hand against his face, the other arm curling around his waist. “I can't- I just – I can't Mickey.” The redhead ducks his head in shame, fiddling with the skin propped at the side of his nails. Mickey can feel the tenseness in Ian's shoulders, the pure sorrow in the kids eyes. 

 

“Is it the med's?” Mickey asks, thinking that that was the only answer to this. Why else would Ian turn down a good blowjob or a chance to fuck Mickey in the ass? It had never been the case before. 

 

“No. No.” Ian shakes his head, avoiding Mickey's eyes. “It ain't that, my dick is working fine.” 

 

Mickey already knows that, he'd seen how erect his dick got, he could see it now. “What then, I don't get you fucking hard any more, is that it?” 

 

“Jesus, fuck, Mickey.” Ian finally locks his eyes with Mickey's, tears pricking in the corners. “You're the _only_ person that gets me hard, so don't think that shit.” He tries to lean forward but Mickey's had enough, he leaps from the bed slipping on a pair of boxers, if Ian couldn't tell him things, how could this even work? 

 

Mickey wants to throw a fist into the wall, his clenches his fist. “That what am I supposed to think, huh. Right now I feel like some fucking booty-call, like you're sucking my dick just so I'd shut the fuck up. I'm sick of trying to guess with you, Gallagher, so you better start fucking telling me what's going on before I leave out of this door.” Mickey's hand hovers over the door knob, he didn't want to leave – did he fuck – but anything to get Ian out of this weird trance he's in. 

 

“I can-” Mickey goes to open the door when Ian finally bursts. “I don't deserve you!” Is all he hears, then theirs a crack in what sounded like a sob, turning around he latches eyes with a hunched Gallagher. 

 

“What the fuck did you just say?” Mickey bites back, lingering by the open door. 

 

Ian mutters the words once more, barely audible. Mickey walks forward, he had caught it this time – he had the first time – but it felt more real, like Ian was actually speaking. How could he think that he didn't deserve him? If anything Mickey knew he didn't deserve Ian. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” 

 

Ian flinches, a tear spilling down his cheek. “I fucked us up. I always fuck it up,  _us_ up.” the redhead slumps against the edge of the bed, pulling his knees up to his chin. “I broke us up, Mick. I said so much shit to you an-d-, you still came back to me. You don't deserve this bullshit.” He rubs frantically against his face – something Mickey noticed Ian did when he was trying to hold back. 

 

Mickey can't wrap his head around it. “What, just because you broke us up you don't want me to suck your dick any-more?” He knows he sounds like a tool, but none of this was making sense. Ian shrugs, like its nothing. 

 

“I have to make it up to you, Mick. I don't deserve you, you could get so much better. I fucking failed us, I ruined us and I just want to make it-it, make it better.” Ian’s crying now, palms digging into his eyes. Mickey doesn't know, really, how to sort this out. He'd never been the comforting type,only with Ian. He walks over, arms dangling by his side and ruffles Ian's hair as he kisses his head. “You didn't fuck us up, I'm here aren't I?” 

 

“You could have someone better, someone who-” 

Mickey buts in, abruptly. “That's not your fucking choice. What I want I get, alright. If you haven't worked it out yet, Gallagher, I fucking want you. So stop with all this no touching bullshit, because fuck – you have no idea how much I want to suck on that cock and just fucking  _feel_ you.” He hears Ian snort. “I'm fucking serious, I'm having withdrawals from not touching that thing.” 

 

“It's only a dick, Mickey.” Ian interjects, giggling a little. Mickey's hand scoops the back of his neck as he kneels down.

 

Mickey shakes his head. “It ain't just a fucking dick, Gallagher. It's a dick that can make my eyes water and put my hands through the headboard.” He nods over to the hand marks framing the headboard, Ian had pounded him so hard that they nearly went through it. 

 

“I still fucked us up, though.” Ian mumbles, wiping his running nose with the back of his hand. 

 

The older boy nods, because yes – the break-up did distance them a little. “So, did I. Like two fucking years ago, maybe a year before that too. Deal with it, we get through it, right?” He slaps his hands against Ian's thighs and feels the twitch in his boxers (or Ian's boxers) because it had been the first time he'd actually been able to  _touch_ Ian without him flinching away.

 

“Now, are you going to fuck me or what?” Mickey smirks, lifting Ian's chin with his finger. “Because my ass is literally prepared itself for your cock, I mean, you can't just leave it hanging?” He shrugs, innocently waiting for that lob-sided smile that Ian always gave him. 

 

In a sudden movement, Ian was pulling Mickey over to the bed, his hands gripping at the boxers that didn't really need to be there. He crawls up the length of Mickey's chest, kissing lightly at his jaw, chin, and up his nose. Ian hasn't said anything yet, but Mickey knows this is real, he knows that Ian has been waiting for that conversation since the break-up. The redhead captures his lips, reaching over to the night-stand, he grips onto the open tub of lube. 

 

Mickey feels himself wriggling at the drawn out drag, Ian's slicking up his fingers and he can't help but sink his teeth into his lips. One of his hands fly around Ian's shoulder, pushing him forward, the redhead takes the cue and slowly pushes his finger into Mickey's hole. The pressure is tight, and Ian can't help but feel guilty about that, he pushes his finger up to his knuckle, grinning at the light moans and gasps he's making his boyfriend call out. Oh, how he missed this. 

 

The older boys back arches against the bed, his hands digging into the skin of Ian's shoulder, he kicks his heel to signal Ian for another finger. Like always, Ian gets it, he slips his next finger in gently, pushing it further in against Mickey's prostrate. After a minute of scissoring his hole, kissing against his nipple, Mickey grips the top of his hair, pulling him up. “I'm fucking ready, get your ass up here, or  _in_ here should I say.” 

 

“Just want to make sure you're prepared, Mick.” Ian's voice is delicate, like velvet. Mickey whimpers as Ian's fingers leave him, he rubs his ass against the sheets, craving the feel of being full again. “I'm okay, not get the fuck in me before I kick you off the bed.” 

 

“You wouldn't do jack-shit.” Ian mutters, smugly. 

 

“You ain't doing jack-shit now so come the fuck on.” Mickey nearly squeals, grabbing Ian's hips and pulling him towards him. In the rush, Ian grabs a condom, ripping the seal with his teeth he quickly rolls it on. “So fucking needy.” 

 

Mickey bites at Ian's shoulder, his hand rounding Ian's ass. “I'm aloud to be fucking needy, your dick hasn't been in me for so long I was starting to feel like a fifteen year-old-girl virgin again.” 

 

“Again?” Ian pulls back, tilting his head. 

 

“Shut the fuck up and do what you do best, Gallagher.” Mickey slaps the back of his head lightly, using his foot to pressure the want for Ian to get in him. The redhead nods, lining himself up with Mickey. He grabs Mickey's thighs and wraps them around his back, as he slowly pushes him – stopping to let Mickey adjust to the feeling. “ _Fuck”_ They both gasp in union. 

 

Ian starts to move and they both know this time, he jack hammers into Mickey, drowning in the hitched gasp he creates. Mickey's fingers dig into his skin, as he breathes. “I don't want you to make love to me, Gallagher, I want you to  _fuck_ me.” With that, Ian can't resist, he grips onto the headboard – that he knows they will break – and drives himself into Mickey like he had nothing to lose. 

 

Mickey's head is tossing and turning, the heat building up like a fire at a petrol station, his hands are drawing blood in Ian's back as his dick hammers into his body. “This is what – I'm – fucking talking about.” He grits through his teeth, barely containing himself every time Ian fucks him in the right place. Ian's jaw clenches as it tries to hold back his moans, he'd never been more happier for Mickey to full-blown confront him – because fuck those who didn't say this was one of there best fucks. 

 

“ _Ian_ -” Mickey cries out as the bed knocks against the wall over and over. The redhead grips firmly onto Mickey's thighs, raising them up so they hooked onto the top of his shoulders. Mickey felt himself fold up, and Ian lifted himself and slammed himself into him, his dick hitting his prostate over and over. As much as it started to hurt – it fucking felt good, and he couldn't get enough of it. Each thrust knocked the wind out of him, each time Ian's mouth freed itself onto Mickey's body he felt his release building...and building. 

 

In a sudden jolt, with a little struggle, Mickey managed to flip Ian over on the bed, his legs straddling Ian's hips. He takes a grip onto Ian's cock and sinks slowly onto it, his whole body retreating into a desperate moan. Ian's fingers are forming bruises against his hips as he rocks, aggressively, against him, his legs burning up at the force and speed he fled at. “Jesus Christ, Mickey.” Ian knocks out with a moan, one of his hands reaching up and tracing over Mickey's plump lips. 

 

The brunette bounces wildly on his cock, leaning back to adjust the position further. With his hands against Ian's legs, he rolls his hips harder against him, biting his lip – he was sure he wouldn't have a lip by the end of this. A couple of bottles drop from the night-stand, the rock of the bed more intense as Mickey's body flows faster against Ian. The redhead reaches for Mickey's leaking cock, wrapping his hand around it, he pumps it faster knowing that Mickey is on way with his release. Mickey swats his hand away, doing it himself – this was about Ian. He grounds himself, balls-deep, into Ian, his ass clenching around his dick. Ian mutters incoherently, biting against the skin of his own left arm. 

 

In a couple of seconds, they are both messes, trying to catch their breaths as their climax neared. Mickey's hips rut erratically, trying to catch it up. Ian lifts his legs, forming ground behind Mickey's back, so he could thrust in match with Mickey's hips. At this point neither of them could think, never-mind speak, so the room is filled with gasps and sharp moans, until finally Ian pours himself into Mickey, the brunette letting go not long after. The older boy rocks a couple more times, wincing at the sensitivity of his cock rubbing against Ian's abs. Finally, Ian's hand trail up his sweaty back and he collapses on top of Ian. 

“Fuck, I missed that.” Ian gulps, trying to form words as his head burrows into Mickey's sweat-soaked shoulder. 

 

Mickey hums, Ian's dick was still in his ass and he couldn't lie and say he was already on go for round two. “You're fucking telling me.” He kisses at Ian's collar bone, soothing his tongue over the bite mark he had given him during Ian hammering him into the mattress. 

 

The husk breathing was interrupted when they heard a slam against the wall, a couple of loud laughs, that they knew was Iggy's room. “'Bout fucking time!” 

 

Eyes widening, they both turn to each other and can't help but burst into uncontrollable laughter. 


End file.
